The Last Family Holiday
by starry-oblivion
Summary: A scene between nine Weasleys attempting to have a family holiday in Egypt. Takes place in the summer before PoA. No spoilers, though it's probably more poignant after reading the entire series.


"Mum! George stole my postal card again!"

"Did not, Perce! And anyway, don't you know by now that I'm Fred?"

"Come off it; _I'm_ Fred!"

"You'll _both_ be in a heap of trouble if you don't give that back to your brother! And Percy, I believe Muggles simply call them postcards."

"I'll be sure to make note of that, Father, if Fred ever returns my quill."

"_He's_ Fred!"

Looking up from her travel guide, Ginny made a face as she told Percy, "Oh come on, it isn't as though you haven't filled an entire trunk with nothing but books and quills. Just get one of those extras and stay quiet so I can actually read something interesting, won't you?"

Flushing a little at the thought of his rambunctious baby sister telling _him_ to be quiet, Percy pushed his glasses up on his nose and tried to maintain his composure as he told her, "I'm sorry, Ginny. I simply find it agitating that even at their age, the twins have no respect for the belongings of others."

Under his breath, George muttered to Fred, "Says the big, important prefect who still calls for Mummy when things don't go his way." As Fred snickered appreciatively, George glanced over at their mother, who was stoically ignoring the argument as she tidied up their hotel suite. "Don't know how that woman's managed to stay sane when we've all been huddled in such close quarters for the better part of three days so far. I think I'd go bonkers if I had to deal with seven of my kids all at once."

"Don't fret, George old boy," Fred replied, clasping him on the shoulder. "You'll never find a woman who'll be willing to bring _that_ much of your brood into the world. Then again, if _Percy;_ found someone, well…."

Percy didn't like that mischievous grin that spread over Fred's face as he glanced down at the half-written postcard he'd nicked. "Fred, you will return that card to me this instant, or-"

"Or what, Percy?" Ginny scoffed, having given up the thought of reading. "You'll deduct House points and give them detention?" Percy flushed again as the twins broke out in raucous laughter.

"Bill-" Percy began, hoping to plead his case with his eldest brother, who was just finishing up a sandwich in the adjoining kitchenette.

"Oh no," Bill replied, shaking his head as he carried his plate towards the sink. "You've got at least another year of living with them, so you fight your own battles. I already did my time."

"'Dearest Penelope,'" Fred began reading, in an overly melodramatic voice.

"Fred, stop it!" Percy nearly shouted, storming towards his brother in an attempt to snatch the postcard back. His face was so red that Ginny couldn't help laughing, wondering if he was going to spontaneously combust.

George came up to Percy, grinning brightly as he put his hands on his brother's shoulders to stop him. "Oi, don't get your head all turned around, okay? It's all in good fun. We're family, right?"

"Actually, George," Fred brought up, having skimmed the rest of Percy's note to Penelope, "according to this, we're nothing but 'lazy miscreants.'"

"What?" George gasped, whirling around to gape at Fred. "Why, that's just… I've never…." Glaring at Percy over his shoulder, he sniffed, "After all that work we put into setting up that Dungbomb in the lobby! Lazy, indeed! _Ha!_ Fred, let me see that."

"What'd I miss?" Charlie asked, emerging from the bathroom.

"Percy thinks he's better than us and now Fred and George are going to make him pay," Ginny replied flatly.

"Ah," Charlie remarked. "Same old, same old, then."

"Fred, you illiterate ninny," George said. "Percy wasn't calling _us_ lazy miscreants. He was referring to his youngest brother, not his younger brothers."

"Oh," Fred responded, reading the postcard over his twin's shoulder as Percy tapped his foot impatiently. "By George, you're right! That was in reference to dear ickle Ronald. I suppose I can't argue too much there."

"Whazzat?" came Ron's sleepy voice from one of the bedrooms. "Are you lot talking about me?"

"Why would you say a thing like that, Ron?" Fred called as he took his wand out of his pocket, wagging his eyebrows at George. "Are your ears burning?"

Chuckling, George tapped his nose to show that he understood, absently tossing Percy his postcard and quill as he followed Fred into the bedroom. Making a sound of surprise and annoyance, Percy retrieved his things and shot an irritated glance after the twins. For a few seconds, there was rare, blessed silence as the Weasleys set about their business. Then:

"YEOW!! WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN'S SOILED UNDERPANTS DO YOU TWO FREAKS THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

All eyes turned to see Fred and George race out of the bedroom, with Ron in hot pursuit. "Hot pursuit" was quite literal, too, as black smoke was pouring out of his ears while he hurled angry swear words at them, having apparently been woken up and unable to grab for his own wand quickly enough. Ginny doubled over in gales of laughter, Charlie and Mr. Weasley shouted and had to dive out of the way before being bowled over by the three stampeding boys, and Percy gasped something about the severity of the punishment in store for the twins for having misused magic while underage.

Only Bill and Mrs. Weasley seemed to keep their wits about them. Bill marched ahead and grabbed his younger brother to keep him from running, then got out his wand and administered a charm he'd devised that acted as a salve for that particular stunt of the twins'. Mrs. Weasley effectively stopped the other two by standing in front of them with her arms crossed over her chest, a hard, stern glint in her eyes. The chilliness of her gaze seemed to permeate the entire room, for silence once again washed over everyone as all eyes fell on the matriarch.

"Wands. Now."

"Aw, Mum!" the twins protested.

"Absolutely no arguments!" Mrs. Weasley almost screeched. "Pranks are one thing, but I thought we made it quite clear that we wouldn't use magic at all on this trip unless it became necessary!" Immediately snapping back into the role of doting mother, she looked at Bill and warmly said, "Thank you for taking care of that, dear." She then glared back at the twins, the fury back as though it had never left. "I would have thought I taught you better than to carelessly fling your magic around when you're only fifteen! And to use it on your little brother! I don't know what on this green earth you were thinking when you thought you could get away with that, or if you were even thinking at all!"

"We were thinking Ron wouldn't scream like a little girl," Fred brought up quietly. This was greeted by a quickly-repressed snicker from George and more cursing from Ron. Both were silenced by Mrs. Weasley's harsh glare.

"Wands," she repeated. Reluctantly, both twins gave her his wand as she continued, "You will both be sleeping in this common room tonight, and no, the sofas will not be Transfigured into beds. Let's see how much _you_ enjoy an uncomfortable sleep. Now go wash up! Go on!"

With irritated sighs and grumbles, the twins turned towards the bedroom to get their pajamas. Ron glared at them as they sulked past, but he sobered up quickly enough when he saw that his mother had now taken up a post in front of him. Though he knew it wasn't the brightest thing to say – especially after Bill let go of him and stepped away – he blurted out, "What're you looking at _me_ like that for?"

"One more obscenity out of you, Ronald Weasley, and it'll be _your_ wand next!"

"_What_?!" Ron exclaimed, genuinely shocked. "That's not fair! They startled me, and it isn't as if any of those words could make _their_ ears burn!"

"That isn't the point!" Mrs. Weasley shot back. "It's inappropriate behavior for a young boy, and think of the example you're setting for your sister! I haven't the faintest idea where you picked up that kind of language, but I will _not_ tolerate it in my household!"

Ron glanced at his father, then, who coughed sheepishly and turned a delicate shade of red. "The boy's obviously tired, Molly. Let's just get him back off to bed, so he can think about the consequences of his actions coherently in the morning. We should all be getting to bed soon, anyway. Mr. Ayad's promised us a long day tomorrow, and it wouldn't do for us to be groggy and grumpy while visiting the Great Pyramid."

As per the usual nighttime tradition, Ron had no qualms about sleeping whereas it took about ten minutes before Ginny could no longer insist that she wasn't sleepy and plodded off to bed. Percy finished proofreading his seven-sentence postcard for the tenth time, and he quickly whisked the note away as the twins came back, grumbling at one another. Charlie insisted on taking another walk around the hotel grounds in the hopes of encountering another fascinating scorpion, and Bill promised to tag along with him to ensure that he won't end up getting sent to a Muggle hospital for copious bites or stings or whatever it was that those strange-looking creatures administered best.

Mr. Weasley entered the kitchenette for a glass of water, stopping when he saw that his wife was standing over the sink. Even though her back was to him, they'd been married long enough for him to tell when she was upset. "Molly?" he called gently, walking towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Molly, what is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing, dear," she claimed. She glanced back at him with a bit of a smile and, though he could see that she was certainly upset about something, it didn't look as though she'd been crying. "I just wish I hadn't snapped at the boys so. I've been trying hard to leave them be."

Dumbfounded, he remarked, "Why would you do a thing like that? Fred and George were certainly out of line, and you've never tolerated rough language from _me_, never mind our youngest son. I would have been shocked if you hadn't said anything."

"I know, dear, I know," Mrs. Weasley murmured. "It's only that…." With a weary sigh, she looked down and explained, "I can't help but think that this will be one of the last holidays the lot of us spend together as a family."

"Molly! How can you say that?"

"Well, it's only rational, Arthur," she replied chidingly. "We were already married by the time we were Charlie's age, so it's only a matter of time before he and Bill each find a nice girl to settle down with. Percy's starting his last year at Hogwarts, and he's always been so ambitious that it's perfectly likely he'll move out as soon after graduation as he possibly can. The twins are a handful, and Ron's adventures with Harry are _so_ dangerous, and even Ginny didn't manage to keep out of trouble after only her first year. Half of this family is growing up and the other half is too immature for us to try another attempt at a holiday between the nine of us. Not to mention, who knows when we'll come across another financial windfall like that…."

Smiling gently at his wife, Mr. Weasley told her, "Molly. You're over-thinking things again."

"Oh, I know."

"You worry too much about what you might someday lose," he said, putting an arm about her shoulders and giving her a gentle squeeze. "Enjoy what you have. It's more than what most people ever get."

"I'm well aware of that, Arthur," she told him, though the grateful smile on her face proved that she was still glad to hear it every once in a while. "Off to bed with you now, dear. As you've said, it would hardly be proper to keep our tour guide waiting tomorrow morning."

"I'm just going to get a glass of water," he replied. "You go ahead. I'll be right in."

Arthur Weasley wasn't a particularly superstitious man. But after he kissed his wife goodnight and watched her weave her way through a pair of sullen twins and heard his two eldest boys whispering secretly outside in the hallway about a girl one of them was seeing, he had the sudden overwhelming feeling that she had been right. He couldn't imagine another set of circumstances that would allow the nine of them to ever come together on a holiday and explore a foreign country ever again. His four youngest children seemed to be born troublemakers, even if Ron and Ginny appeared to be more victims of circumstance, and Percy was growing enamored with the Ministry so quickly that Arthur wouldn't be surprised if he would move into his own flat while still wearing his commencement robes. This was it. The last great family holiday.

"Enjoy what you have," he muttered under his breath, pouring himself a glass of water.


End file.
